


The touch of winter

by Olgie, pomidor



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Greg Lestrade - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Mycroft Holmes - Freeform, mycroft holmes/Greg Lestrade - Freeform, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9150748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olgie/pseuds/Olgie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pomidor/pseuds/pomidor
Summary: Translation of my fanfiction "Dotyk chłodu". Thanks to pomidor, she helped me with this.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Dotyk chłodu](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9056971) by [Olgie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olgie/pseuds/Olgie). 



Mycroft was a cold man. After all, people didn’t call him the “Iceman” without reason. His extraordinary genius, impeccable attitude, poker face and an offish approach to the matter, when others were freaking out, gave him respect, but one laced with fear. Sir Mycroft Holmes' employees knew that he was a perfectionist and even a small mistake could cost them their jobs. Even then, the British Government in person was emitting an atmosphere of cool, professional calm. Furthermore, Mycroft loved to have everything under control, to supervise everything on his own, just to be absolutely sure that everything was right and according to his plan.

Mycroft’s private life was also affected by his coldness. Greg believed that Mycroft loved him. Believed, because Mycroft showed his tenderness rather rarely. It was usually very subtle, almost invisible for an outside observer. His blue-green eyes glanced, his cold hand brushed and sent shivers. Even Sherlock had problems to notice them. There was no way Mycroft would declare anything - he wasn’t the romantic kind. Sometimes Lestrade wondered if Mycroft was even human.

Mycroft’s love didn’t warm him up, it was chilly just like him. Everything was cold, even his care. When from time to time an almost affectionate gesture occurred, Mycroft immediately returned into his icy comfort zone. He was also damn possessive. Bloody, downright possessive. Most people say, that possessiveness is a rather fiery attribute, but Mycroft was able to turn even that into its icy version.

It was exhausting and it didn’t satisfy Greg at all. He was more outgoing, mostly cheerful and he was used to a totally different kind of relationship, one where intimacy was like fire - not ice. But still, he didn’t want to leave his side, he couldn’t, even if he sometimes thought that he was freezing.

Just like Kay, with a piece of ice in his eye that made him addicted to the Snow Queen. And there was no Gerda, no one to save him, before the piece got into his heart.


End file.
